Heirs

by GrangersDangerousLiaisons

Heavy lies the crown.

Author's Note: PLEASE READ BEFORE YOU START THE STORY

This story is quite AU, so much so that it might confuse some readers. I've taken Harry Potter's entire generation and inserted them in Grindlewald's uprising. Tom Riddle has been added into Harry Potter's generation so that they are all attending school in from 1938-1944. Dumbledore is Minister for Magic and McGonagall is Headmistress. Dippit is the Transfiguration teacher and very bitter about it. Mauraders generation is between 1917-1923. Because there was no Voldemort during marauders era, some characters that have died in canon are not dead in here like, for example, Regulus. Another very important tidbit; Tom Riddle jr is still a very bad guy. An anti-hero to be exact so don't go looking for fluff here.

With that being said, if you've read all that and you're still with me then thanks!

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Screaming pierced the air, shrill and wrought with agony.

"Push, Princess! Just one more push and it'll be over!" Tired blue eyes shut in despair for only a moment before they opened again, this time blazing.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed once more, letting out a cry that was soon joined with another shriller wail. Flopping back onto her pillows, the princess felt a wave of overwhelming exhaustion flood her.

"You did it, Princess! Congratulations! You have a healthy baby girl." Her tiredness immediately vanished as the nurse came toward her with tears in her eyes, holding her precious baby girl in her arms. Gently handing her off, the princess gazed down at the wailing face of her daughter and felt such a strong love in her heart, it brought her to tears.

"My beautiful daughter." She reached out a hand and stroked a finger down her tiny little cheek, the pain from labor nothing but a distant memory.

"What will you name her?" Blue eyes alight with a joy rarely seen, gazed fixedly at the bundle in her arms quieted down as if she too were waiting for her answer.

"Her name is Hermione."

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Cameras flashed as the prince faced a cheering crowd outside of the hospital, his merry face aglow in the chaos.

"My daughter is a healthy seven pounds." He announced proudly to the excited reporters. "I'm quite relieved and delighted."

"And does she favor her mother?"

"Well, it's hard to tell at the moment but she is beautiful, just like her mother."

"How is the Princess?"

"She's well but very tired. It was a hard twelve hours."

"What did you name her?" A smile, wide and genuine erupted on the prince's face.

"Hermione."

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They both smiled side by side as the cameras flashed and their names were cried.

"Happy Birthday, Hermione!" The people cried as they threw flowers and let loose balloons in the shape of a one.

The baby in the princess's arm already seemed comfortable with the chaos of voices and lights overwhelming her sense for she did not make a sound in her mother's arms.

"Okay, cars ready." A voice whispered into the princess's ear. She nodded, smile remaining in place as she followed the prince back into the car. Once the duo settled into the Rolls Royce, Diana continued to smile and wave one handedly out the window as she held Hermione in the other.

"Thank you! Thank you everyone!" she cried, waving Hermione's arm for her with a jubilant laugh as the people screamed.

"You're overdoing it." The princess's smile tightened but stubbornly she continued until the car pulled completely away.

Her smile dropped as she sank back, holding Hermione to her. She shot a sideways glance to her husband to find him determinedly gazing out the window. Every muscle in his body seemed to repel her and pain stabbed the young princesses heart. Her blue eyes trailed down to his fist, before gazing fixedly at the cufflinks he wore; the ones she had gotten him. Her lips curled as she gazed at them, burning jealousy and despair seizing her.

Her mind flashed to that day, two years ago, now when she had sat at a table in the ménage à trois, waiting to speak to her- her husbands supposed best friend. She had suspected then that they were having an affair but had been played for a fool that day. Now, however, she was a fool no more. Ménage à trois, indeed.

Except now it was over with Hermione's birth. The prince could no longer go and see that women, not with a baby and the press. She could finally breathe easy. She smiled down at her daughter as if to prove this.

"Happy birthday my darling." she cooed as Hermione blinked her brown eyes and giggled up at her mommy.

Yet, those cufflinks remained at the back of her mind.

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Hermione remained still and quiet as the argument escalated. Her father had just finished giving a speech and now they remained sequestered in a room away from prying eyes and ears.

"You always treat me like I'm daft." Her mother hissed as her father grit his teeth.

"No, you just are impossible to talk to!" He turned away from her, face frustrated. "All you ever do is accuse me of things completely out of merit!"

"What am I supposed to think? I never see you outside of some public event! You never have time for anything but your duties and any event where she is at, you always go off afterward to be with her!"

"She's my best friend!" Her father dismissed with a wave "And if you tried to get along with her you would understand but you don't try! Not with her or any of my other friends."

"I have tried to get along with your friends but they purposefully exclude me from conversations. Always going on about things they know I don't have any knowledge of and talking down to me whenever I try to engage! And I know why they do it too; It's because they know you aren't happy with me— because you are in love with her!"

"Shut up!" Hermione jolted at the sudden bellow the same time the doll in her hand suddenly turned into her favorite stuffed otter with a loud pop sound. Both her parents broke off whatever spiteful words they were about to say to stare at her. Shocked, Hermione released her toy, staring at it with a gaping mouth.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione cried, bending down to pick up her toy just as it suddenly starting morphing back to its original doll shape. Her eyes snapped up at the sound of thump to find her father had sunk into a chair, his face ashen.

"Oh, no."

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Admittedly, the Queen was not an overly affectionate woman yet Hermione knew without a shadow of a doubt that her grandmother loved her. She might even go as far as to say that her grandmother loved her the most. Hermione also knew that for as much as the Queen loved her, she hated Hermione's mother, the Princess. It was apparent in the cold and aloof way she regarded her, no matter the circumstance.

This time, however, was different. As they all sat in a room in Windsor Castle, the Queen and the Princess seemed to have a truce in favor of being wrought with worry as they waited. Her father too seemed to be on quite the edge too. Their reactions truly belied the seriousness of Hermione's situation. She had never seen her family like this and thus she was on her best behavior sitting between her mother and her grandmother.

Quite suddenly, the fireplace roared as green flames erupted. Her mother clutched her hand so tightly it hurt but it was a welcome distraction as a man stepped out from the flames.

Stiff as a board with her eyes wide, Hermione watched the man with long white beard brush off his robes as he turned to face them, straightening the large pointy hat on his head as he did so. Blue eyes twinkled back at her before the man lowered in a deep bow. The flames roared again and out stepped another man, this one less eccentric as the first. He too bowed before quickly straightening.

"Cornelius, thank you so much for coming on such short notice." Her grandmother spoke, addressing the newest arrival. Fudge bowed again, a blush on his face.

"It is no trouble at all your majesty." The minister spoke, his eyes flashing from the crown on her head to the princess to Hermione sitting shell-shocked between them.

"And your name sir?" The queen addressed the strange man standing beside the minister.

"Pardon me, your majesty. My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is an honor to make your acquaintance."

"The pleasure is all ours considering the…situation, I assure you." The Queen retorted making Albus incline his head.

"Yes, this matter is most serious indeed." Minister fudge piped up as he and Albus eyed Hermione.

"We have confirmed that Hermione is a witch." Albus announced. Her mother gasped and her father turned away to lean heavily on the only table present in the room. Beside her, the Queen remained strong and collected, her shrewd eyes focused on the two wizards in the room.

"Is there a way to prove this?" she asked as Fudge nodded.

"Yes, of course." He then procured out from his cloak a photograph before stepping to the Queen and holding it out for her to take. The queen grabbed in with both hands, staring down at the picture for a moment. Hermione turned her head to catch her grandmother's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"This is just a picture of the Big Ben, what does this have anything to do with proof?" She asked as Hermione peered over to look for herself. Her own eyebrows rose as she saw something, not London. Instead, she saw, not a picture, but a video of Minister Fudge as he reached out a shook someone's hand in some sort of award ceremony.

"I don't see that," Hermione murmured. Her mother squeezed her hand and drawing her grandmother's attention. "I see him," she said, pointing at Fudge, "giving an award to some boy."

"That is correct," Fudge beamed. "The picture has an anti-muggle charm on it that is designed for muggles, or none-magic-folk, to see something different than what magic folk would see. The Princess being able to see this can only mean that she is a witch."

"Her name has also been added to Hogwarts list of students arriving in 1938." Dumbledore added before gazing at Hermione. "This is quite an unprecedented occurrence to have a member of the royal family wielding magic. Many will seek to use her for their nefarious schemes."

"What? What nefarious schemes?" her mother gasped, pulling Hermione tighter to her. The Queen shot her a look as if to say 'hold your tongue!'

"So, what do you suggest for her protection? Our guards are good but they surely wouldn't be able to fight against magic."

"Of course, the ministry will provide aurors for her protection!" Fudge announced with flourish.

"Aurors? What are they?" her mother asked peering frantically between the minister and the queen.

"The wizarding equivalent of a police officer, correct?" The Queen inquired. Fudge nodded his head. "And it wouldn't only be for Hermione. Surely, the entire royal family needs these aurors for protection as well?" Her grandmothers' tone left no room for argument.

"Of course, your majesty."

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She should not have been eavesdropping but the sad timber of her mothers' voice admitting from the crack in the door had been too hard to ignore. Now, she sat against the corridor wall listening further obscured from view by the cover of darkness.

"This has all been a mistake. Everything has been a lie with him since before we had even gotten married! You know, I can't help but wonder why he even started up with me in the first place…no, I'm not imagining it, I have letters, Anthony! Letters that prove that he's in love with her and that it's been going on for the entirety of our marriage! All the trinkets that he got her with their code names on it, the getaways together to her home in Switzerland. I'm at my wits' end, Anthony! He…he won't even talk to me anymore! It's like—it's like he's disgusted by me now. The Queen keeps pressuring us to have another baby but…he won't even touch my hand anymore let alone make love to me. I just…I can't take it anymore! All I wanted since the beginning was him! I know he doesn't think it true but I didn't ask for all the fame! I would have been happy to just be with him! No, no it's not like that, Anthony… we were happy once. I know that he might have loved me even just a little in the beginning but…I'm not like her, you know. She so incredibly smart and she doesn't care about the people or clothes like I do and she can carry on conversations with his friends and help him with policies but me? I'm just…just some doll on his arm! He doesn't respect me at all! He won't even go to events anymore with me. That used to be the only way I could see or talk to him but now I don't even have that! I don't know what to do anymore! Everyday! Every day I wish I had never even met him. I'm so…I'm so unhappy! I miss my life from before! My friends!"

Hermione closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall as her mother broke down into tears. Despite the pain she felt for her mother, she was not surprised by anything that was during the telephone call.

Her mother had always captivated the people from when she was a shy nineteen-year-old to now an iconic confident woman but for all the hearts she melted she had never been able to have her father's, the only heart she ever wanted.

"Princess," a disembodied voice whispered quietly. Hermione's eyes scoured the area she assumed her invisible bodyguard was just as a large gentle hand reached out to pat her stocking covered knee. "You should not be listening to this. This is no conversation a five-year-old should hear."

Had it been anyone else to say this but Remus, she would have stubbornly jutted out her jaw and remained where she was but for him…

With a sigh, she held out her hand and not a second later, Remus grasped hold and helped her to stand. Straightening out her dress around the poufy underskirts, she listened for a moment to her mother's quiet crying before marching ahead, head tilted high. Servants bowed as she passed the grandiose halls all the way to her chambers but Hermione barely noticed as she quickened her steps.

Once inside she swiftly turned just as Remus winked back into view as the door shut. Without preamble, she launched into his arms, biting back a sob as he scooped her up and held her to him in a comforting loving embrace. She barely noticed him crossing the room to sit on a plush chaise as she fought the need to cry.

Hermione took comfort in Remus's gentle stroking over her hair and his scent. He had been her bodyguard going on a year now and viewed as more of a father figure rather than her own father.

"I wish you were my daddy instead." Hermione whispered as she clung to him. With a kind smile and a small tut, Remus continued to comfort Hermione.

A few weeks later he was her bodyguard no more.

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Her mother looked beautiful, her blonde hair shiny and perfectly styled, her blue eyes bright and glowing as she shot coy, nervous glances between Hermione and the other man in the room with them. She was still far too skinny to be healthy, a lingering sign from the depression that had encompassed her for so long.

"This is Ernst," Her mother began, kneeling in her fancy sparkling navy blue dress to be eye level. Gently she reached out to grab Hermione's small hands to tenderly rub her thumbs over her skin. "He's my…he's someone very special to me, do you understand?" Her mother asked, face hopeful and radiant and so obviously in love.

"Yes," she responded, her eyes raising to meet the cool gaze of the man standing before mother and daughter. He stood straight, almost proud, in his guard uniform and he had an air around him of arrogance and uptightness, reminiscent of Hermione's father.

"He's going to be spending a lot of time with me. Sometimes, I might take you over to his home, okay, darling?" Hermione opened her mother to speak but was cut off by Ernst.

"If you do come over, I'll be sure to have my mother there. She delicious home-cooked meals. Maybe you would even like to help her with it?" Ernst spoke with an uppity accent like Hermione suspected he would, a sort of drawl that grated. She nodded and dragged her eyes away from him and back to her mother.

"Is father supposed to know?" Hermione asked rather curtly in a way that she had learned from her grandmother. Her mother blinked, a sort of discombobulated flutter of her lashes as his grip tightened on her hands for a moment.

"Yes, you don't have to hide anything from your father." Her mother almost sounded hurt but Hermione couldn't find it in herself to be accepting or kind. Her input hardly mattered.

"Okay, are you off to the party?" she asked instead, just as a vase fell to the floor with a loud crash that startled them all. Hermione and her mother both jolted as Ernst quickly turned around toward the sound, looking prepared to fight.

Her mother and Hermione shared a look knowing without a doubt just what, or rather, who knocked down the vase. Mundungus had to be Hermione's least favorite auror so far, luckily he wouldn't be with them much longer.

"Huh," Ernst drawled slowly, striding over to the broken vase in pieces on the floor. Hermione eyed her mother as she quickly got up and walked over to him, reaching out a hand to place on his forearm.

"Ignore that, darling, the servants will clean it right up. We should be heading out now, don't you think?" Hermione's hair stirred as the invisible auror breezed passed her. Ernst turned his head to eye her mother strangely before he gave a sharp nod.

"Right, let's go then. Hermione, lovely to meet you." He said, placing her mother's hand in the crook of his arm as he led her toward the door. Hermione curtsied as she had been taught as her mother paused to drop a kiss on to her forehead.

"Don't wait up for us. I suspect we'll be quite late." Her mother announced as Ernst opened the door.

As soon as the two were gone, Mundungus appeared, giving her a smile Hermione thought looked rather sleazy.

"Your mum looked quite b-e-a-utiful! Wonder what she sees in that bloke, eh?" He asked as he flicked his wand at the broken vase to repair it. Hermione didn't answer as she strode over and picked it up from the floor, inspecting the vase critically.

She quite liked this particular one, it was handcrafted by her mother with dancing bears and graceful swans. Her mother might not be a genius but she had a gift for art that Hermione did not inherit. She took after her father and grandmother.

She had just placed the vase back into its spot when it happened.

The double french doors burst open and men glided right in wearing long black cloaks and white masks on their faces. Hermione froze where she stood as they moved like silent shadows into the room.

"Oi!" Mundungus cried as one man disarmed him. A flash of red came out of another mans wand and Mundungus went down like a sack of potatoes.

Hermione had a moment of panic, for herself, for her stupid bodyguard who looked to be dead and so she screamed a shrill piercing cry.

The next second her world went black.

XxXxXx

She came to consciousness rather abruptly, too quickly for her senses to properly adjust. She blinked slowly as her mind tried to catch up. She could tell she was laying down on something not particularly comfortable and she could hear something. Rubbing her eyes, Hermione sat up, her head pounding painfully.

Blearily, she barely took in her surroundings when she found herself staring down at the end of a pointed wand. Gasping Hermione backed up as the man chuckled darkly.

Hermione took the strangers tall lean build, the empty grey eyes and thinning dirty blond hair. What struck her the most was his outfit. To Hermione, it resembled the uniforms of the royal guards, except the colors were a dark green and there was a symbol stitched into the fabric that she had never seen before; a triangle with a circle inside with a line drawn down the middle of the circle. Very peculiar but she had no time to contemplate it as the man began to speak.

"Wakey, wakey, mudblood." he hissed with a noticeable accent before he waved his arm, "Imperio!"

All emotions fled her as her mind was controlled. Touch the quill, a voice ordered making her immediately oblige without a single thought.

The next instant, an uncomfortable pull lurched in her gut and everything became a distorted blur.

She didn't feel herself fall just the pain upon impact and even that was dulled in the wake of nausea that had her immediately vomiting.

She didn't have a second to even process any information before once again she was hit with that red light and lost consciousness.

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Kidnapped. She could hardly believe it. Didn't even know how to come to terms with it as she sat in a cold dark cell completely shrouded in darkness.

She had no idea where she was nor how long she had been here for. She had woken up already in here on the cold stone floor, chills wracking through her body, completely and utterly alone.

She screamed for someone, sobbed and completely broke down and had stayed in that state for what felt like weeks.

She had been given meals that appeared with a pop before her but that was the only luxury given. She reeked, her dress dirty and ripped, her hair, already wild and hard to tame was a knotted disgusting mess around her head.

After a while being shrouded in darkness with no one to talk to, nothing to occupy her mind, and covered in her own filth, Hermione felt a blankness in her mind. Different then the blankness she felt when that man did something to her…no this felt much worse because it felt like nothing at all.

She fell silent, no longer screaming or crying for her mummy and daddy. She didn't cry at all, didn't make a peep.

That was when she was finally released.

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"My name is Gellert." The man announced as they stood alone in a room as lavish as the rooms of Buckingham Palace.

Hermione did not reply as he stared at her with penetrating pale blue eyes, taking in her filthy appearance.

"Would you like a bath?" He asked but Hermione didn't have words anymore.

The man took her hand; neither gentle nor brisk as he led her out of the room and into another, a bathroom.

Overwhelming delightful smells permeated Hermione's senses. For so long she had only smelled her own filthy scent. Closing her swallow eyes, Hermione inhaled deeply.

Without preamble, Gellert stripped her of her unsalvageable clothes and placed her into the tub. Quietly, with rolled up sleeves, he bathed her. Hermione couldn't help but feel a pang of something as the grime and stench left her body.

Once done, Gellert towel dried her and helped her put on new beautiful clothes before leading her once more to that room and onto the couch by the fire.

Sitting down next to her kidnapper, Hermione eyed the renaissance styled room, her eyes fixing on a large painting above the fireplace. It was obvious the painting was commissioned by Gellert since he stared at the main object in the frame. In it, he held a wand triumphantly in his hand, a royal looking cloak wrapped around his shoulders, jewels on every finger. He looked up at something beyond while he stood on top of a pile of bones, light shining on him with darkness being way behind. It was beautifully painted but very egotistical.

It didn't hold her interest for long yet she let her eyes stay focused on it as he began to speak.

"I like collecting rare artifacts," she could feel his eyes on her "I also like keeping unique people close to me. This is, of course, because I am special in my own right being a descendant of Merlin himself. Merlin is the equivalent of royalty in the wizarding world. Your long-forgotten predecessor, King Arthur, had a close relationship with him. Muggles, however, are a subspecies compared to us magic folk. Being royalty is special indeed but does it really matter when you're the royalty to animals?

"I wouldn't have taken an interest if you had been nothing but a muggle princess; you would have just been someone I would have killed once I take over wizarding England to subdue the muggles. However, that's all different now." His gaze burned the side of her face as her eyes fell to the flames before them. She could faintly see her old clothes burning in the fire. She hadn't even noticed him toss them in there.

"There has never been a member of the royal family born magical; not in England or anywhere else in the world. That makes you very special Hermione. That makes you a Mudblood Princess. I can ransom you to not only the Ministry of Magic but the muggle Ministry as well. I can, as the muggles say, kill two birds with one stone with you."

"England is very special to me. I was raised in England and I will take over my homeland. An… oversight I made many years ago drove me out of the country. I've been fighting to get it back ever since, taking over other countries in the meantime but I mean to rule in England. Before that can happen I have to be rid of one obstacle. Albus Dumbledore."

"I have taken you for ransom to barter my way out of a life debt I owe to him. Once that life debt is gone, I can finally kill him and take back England for my own. You understand now, why you must remain here until that happens? Only you are valuable enough to force his hand and finally give me that freedom."

A knock sounded, finally drawing Gellert's unnerving stare. From the corner of her eye, Hermione watched a small smile break on his face.

"Enter," he commanded. A man, dressed similar to the cruel man that had captured her, entered walking in a few steps before standing at attention, arm raised in a sort of salute.

"Mein Herr, ist der Brief angekommen." The man announced, eyes straight ahead.

"Gib es mir." Gellert responded, holding out his hand.

"Jawohl!" Very properly, the man marched over and handed him a letter Hermione hadn't noticed was in his hand.

"Heil, mein Führer!" The man cried before saluting and exiting the room.

"Finally," Gellert hissed, opening the letter, drawing Hermione's full attention. She watched as he broke the seal of the envelope before the letter floated out and morphed to form a mouth.

"I release you from your life debt, Gellert Grindelwald upon the safe return of Princess Hermione, Duchess of Cambridge to me, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." Wide-eyed, Hermione watched the letter tear itself up.

A tense moment followed as Gellert stared at the spot the letter had disappeared, a dark smile on his face, obviously lost in his own world.

She didn't say anything as he finally came to, turning his eyes onto her. His grin stretched to the first unpleasant smile had seen from him. He grabbed her again, lifting her from the couch as he crossed over to the fireplace. She watched as he grabbed something from a bowl on the mantle place.

"Well, it was a pleasure, Hermione, Duchess of Cambridge." he said pleasantly as he threw down what appeared to be black sand.

Abruptly he turned to grab her upper arms, and just like that threw her into the fireplace. She would have screamed if her voice wasn't locked somewhere in that black cold cell.

Panic seized her as she was engulfed in flames so much so she almost didn't hear his next words.

"Until we met again."

XxXxXx

They had forgotten she was here.

It was starting to become a normal occurrence seeing as she had no presence anymore. Just silence. Always very, very quiet.

"Are you sure this will work?"

"Michael is an excellent reporter, he knows what he's doing."

"Ernst, I…"

"Shh, love. I know, I know."

"I just can't believe they would expect this of me after, after everything that's happened! Hermione… she still hasn't said a word! Another baby isn't the answer! How could they…?"

"I don't know what they're thinking."

"Plus, even if everything with Hermione hadn't happened, the prince and I don't even have a marriage anymore! How could they honestly think I would have another child with him? All of this is just so…so mad!"

"Michael will help us. The world already adores you, if they knew everything that went on behind scenes we'll finally force the Queens' hand. You'll be able to divorce and we can finally be together."

"It's just…Hermione…"

"I know, love. It's all very complicated."

"I don't know how to help her."

"Well, this environment isn't helping her but to take her anywhere else is a risk. She wouldn't be as protected and there will always be people out to kidnap her again."

"I wish she would just speak! I don't know how to help her if we can't communicate, talk it out."

"Give it time, love."

XxXxXx

"Oh! Now do a pig nose!" Hermione commanded through peels of laughter. Her newest pair of bodyguards shared mischievous smiles as they flicked their wands at each other, transfiguring the others facial features. Fabian and Gideon Prewett were unlike anybody she had ever met before. They were funny and uncouth, without boundaries and they never failed to make her laugh.

She flopped back onto her back in hysterics as one of the red-haired men cried out with an indignant oink.

"Think that's funny do ya, girly?" He hissed around a smirk, eyes narrowing dangerously on her. Her eyes went wide just before she bounded up, already knowing what would happen if he got her. She laughed as she jumped behind the settee as he gave chase.

"Hohohoho! Think you can outrun me! Me! The great Gideon Prewett! Wingardium Leviosa!"

Hermione let out a high pitch squeak, suddenly floating in the air. Laughing, she turned her gaze onto the twin brothers who looked positively ridiculous with their crazy mix-matched appearances. Fabian looked positively bestial with a furry blue beard, green hair, purple eyes and pointed ears while Gideon didn't fare much better with his purple mustache, long blonde hair and a pig nose.

"Put me down!" Hermione ordered laughingly as he levitated her higher and higher above the settee. They both gave her wicked smiles.

"What do you think, Fab? Should we let the little lady down?"

"Oh I don-" Suddenly all laughter left there faces as a silver mist in the shape of a meerkat came into the room. Hermione recognized the Patronus immediately since it was a common means of communication between all her bodyguards.

"Fudge has been killed. Dumbledore has been elected. Portkey to the designated safe house." Hermione watched with mounting nervousness as the apparition dispersed. Fabian and Gideon shared meaningful looks before firing off in a flurry of movements.

She could feel the palpable magic in the air as Fabian and Gideon moved about the room sprouting orders, securing the perimeter."Requesting back up to-" "Get the family-" "Move it! Move it!"

Fudge dead… She recalled his face in her minds eyes and remembered how utterly unremarkable he seemed standing next to Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore…

'I have to be rid of one obstacle. Albus Dumbledore.' Her body froze as his voice rang in her ears. She could see his smile so clearly in her minds' eye, trapping her with his cold sneer and the darkness in his eyes. Darkness like that cold dungeon. She trembled.

Hands squeezed her shoulders. She looked up, eyes tormented and found the twins gazing at her with concern, appearances still ridiculous.

"It's alright, Hermione." The chorused in synchrony. "You're safe with us. We will protect you."

She believed them.

XxXxXx

"Merlin, I miss England." Gideon moaned, flicking his food petulantly. Hermione— who had told them time and time again not to bring food into the library or anywhere even remotely close to her precious books— eyed him from behind the rim of her book shrewdly. Fabian, sitting on the other side of Hermione gave an answering longing moan.

"The first thing I'm doing when we get back to England is eating Molly's cooking!" Hermione gave Fab a questioning look. He leaned forward toward her as they lounged in Hermione's usual spot in the chateau's library, a very serious look on his face. "Molly is our elder sister, now a Weasley and-"

"- is the best cook in the world, hands down." Gideon added with equal sincerity. Hermione did not argue this claim though she knew it could not be true; she had lived her life eating the meals cooked by world-renowned chefs.

"I can't believe its almost been a year that we've been here!" Fabian groaned, sinking down into his chair. "I speak better french at this point than English."

She rolled her eyes as she focused her attention on her book again. Unlike Fab and Gid, Hermione had already been fluent in Welsh, French, and Spanish before they had come to Paris. They had to learn it out of necessity and seemed quite bitter about it too. In fact, they seemed to hate everything about France and were always complaining about something or other. She put up with it because the alternative would be them leaving and… no, she didn't want to think about that.

She loved Fab and Did like no other. They were the only reason why she was able to feel normal again after the kidnapping. She needed them. They were her family, and now, finally, her permanent bodyguards.

It was times when they complained like this that made her feel a lingering sense of regret. After all, it was her fault that they had to remain in France with her.

The twins must have noticed her pang of guilt for they each took her hands and gave her smiles. "Don't look like that, poppet-"

"Just because we aren't in the motherland-"

"Doesn't mean we're not right where we are supposed to be." She squeezed their hands and returned their grin.

XxXxXx

Hermione maintained her grip on her mother's hand as the cameras flashed. Over the hectic screams from the reporters, Hermione could hear the crowd chanting her mother's name.

She increased her strides to the car as her mother waved with her free hand, giving that smile she was so well known for. Once inside, Hermione let out a breath of relief.

"Everything alright, darling?" Her mother asked, giving her a smile Hermione could only half-heartedly return.

"I'm just tired." She replied. Her mother, to the contrary, looked anything but. Her face flushed, eyes twinkling, she looked positively glowing. Hermione turned away from her to gaze out of the window as they drove away. She wondered, as she always did if Fab and Gid were okay flying above the car. She didn't trust those brooms and couldn't help but worry.

"Avada Kedavra!" Hermione turned at the strange words just in time to see a green light hit her mother, causing her to slump in her seat. The hairs on her body all seemed to stand up as a dark foreboding feeling overwhelmed Hermione. Time seemed to slow in her confusion as her gaze turned from her mother to the driver who held a wand in his tight grip, boorish face set in grim determination as he reached out toward her. She noticed serval things at once in quick succession; the way the car was going to crash into a pillar any second, that the muggle bodyguard usually riding in the car with them was nowhere to be found and that the time blaring on the dashboard of the car read 9:30.

What she felt, however, the horrible nerve standing wrongness, would remain the most poignant in her memories.

Her scream could not be contained as she flung herself away, hand going for the doorknob. Without a thought, flight responses in gear, Hermione opened the door and let herself fall out.

She felt an instant mind-numbing pain as her back collided with the asphalt first but lost consciousness as soon as her head hit the ground.

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"Hermione…"

"Hermione please…please say something."

Her eyes turned onto her father, taking in his pleading watery eyes, his flushed wholesome face. She hadn't realized just how old he was getting.

"Hermione?"

She had missed her mother's funeral.

She had woken up, weeks after the incident, in St. Mungos, without any memory. She had been given a potion and told that she was very lucky to be alive, that she would have been paralyzed and brain damaged if she hadn't been sent to them. She had missed her mother's funeral.

Fab and Gid had told her that Ernst had been a spy for Grindelwald and been looking to capture Hermione that night. They had seemed very traumatized themselves as they recalled the way the car had lost control, at hearing her scream and the seeing her plummet to what should have been her death. They had captured Ernst who had taken something called polyjuice potion to look like their driver. He had been working intel to Grindelwald for years.

"Hermione, come on. Talk to me."

Sinking down into the hospital, she said not a word as she turned her back to her dad. A watery sigh escaped him but Hermione felt too disconnected to care.

The Queen visited often. With her came words of strength and courage.

"Being weak will get you nowhere, Hermione." Her grandmother said with that endless fire burning in those blue eyes. The strength of a Queen.

She hated feeling weak. It felt too much like that dark cell.

When she was released from St. Mungos, she returned back to the Windsor castle with her father and her bodyguards. She expected that she would feel better at home, properly mourn and then heal. She was wrong.

What they didn't know, what they couldn't see, was that her mother's ghost haunted them, haunted her.

"They killed me, Hermione. I just know they did." Hermione shivered as her mother tried to run her hand through her hair. "It wasn't Ernst, he would never hurt me. We were in love. No, it was your father and the Queen. They found out about my plans to divorce. Found out that I was pregnant with Ernst's baby, so they killed me."

Hermione closed her eyes, wrapped the blanket more tightly around herself. "Please, mum, I'm tired."

"You can't let them get away with it, Hermione."

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"Hermione, we were thinking-" She raised her eyes from her book of spells to gaze at the twins before her.

"that we'd like to take you-"

"to the burrow."

Hermione placed her book on the table before fixing them with a look. "Isn't that where your sister lives?" Like mirror images, they both nodded at the same time.

"She has all these children-"

"and we think it would be good for you-"

"to maybe start hanging out with kids your age-"

"who aren't your cousins, of course-"

"and aren't snobby like those other diplomates kids-"

Hermione rolled her eyes, remembering all the times the twins had hexed one of the kids shoelaces together or made them start farting or burping or hitting one particularly nasty kid with hives. Other kids had always treated her oddly. They catered to her, complimented her, feed her manipulating promises of friendship. It was tiring being around them. No, not tiring, frustrating. She hated those eager eyes gazing at her as if she was the answer to all their problems. It ostracized her. Fab and Gid did not like that and always secretly retaliated on her behalf. She reprimanded them properly afterward but she actually enjoyed it. It felt extremely nice to have someone genuine. She didn't understand how her mother could have like it so much,

"Do they know who I am?" She asked. Their uncomfortable shuffling was all the answer she needed. "No, no, I don't want to meet them."

With identical pouts on their faces, they whined at her.

"Whyyyy!" "You'd like them!" "They'll treat you normally"

"No."

"We can disguise you-" "They don't care about royalty-" "They'd be more impressed if you were a famous Quidditch star-"

Hermione sighed but kept her annoyance in check. It hardly mattered to her if they cared about the royal family or not. She just didn't have anything in common with children. They hadn't been through the things she had. Often times with other kids she grew bored of their immaturity, of their ignorance, of their lack of intelligence. Selfish. That's what she saw in other kids. Childish selfishness. Ani-

'Royalty of animals,' She shivered as his voice crept unbidden into her mind. White hot anger coursed through her replacing the fear. Unconsciously, She grit her teeth together and gripped her book, a sort of madness in her sharp eyes. 'Does it matter being royalty of animals?'

"Hermione?"

Her eyes flicked up to her bodyguards unable to escape her rage. I'll kill him! I'll kill him!

"Deep breaths love." Gid flicked his wand, vanishing her book from her hands. Without it, her hands curled into fists. She wanted to crush him. Hit that sneer off his lips, tear him apart, rip him limb from limb, smash his face to bits. In her mind, she's done it so many times. Transported herself back to that time in his study and killed him in so many ways. Ruined him like he ruined her.

Kids didn't hate like her.

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"Wake up, darling. Wake up." Blinking slowly, Hermione drowsily awoke, sitting up in bed. Chills immediately broke out on her skin as the quilt slide off her skin, tendrils of her hair partially obscured her vision but it didn't take her long at all to realize what was going on. Or rather, what, or whom, was in her room with her.

"Mum," She breathed out tiredly, resigned. Standing beside her bed her mother stood in all her haunting beauty. "Please."

"Get up, Hermione." She wanted to refuse, she wanted to turn her back and just ignore her and fall back into the peaceful oblivion of sleep. "Get up, darling."

She wanted to cry, she was just so tired of this. She slipped gracefully off of her bed and padded over to her slippers. She followed her mother through the castle, quiet and careful. Hermione recognized that her mother was leading her to her father's wing. Dread filled her as she followed her mothers' ghost but stopped when her mother did and gazed at where she pointed.

"It's just a wall, mum." Her mother shook her head.

'No, Hermione. Push it.' She did as her mother instructed and was surprised when the wall caved in and slide to the side. A long dark small corridor stretched out before her and she stepped through and followed to the other side. All the hairs on her arms stood on end as she followed her mothers' ghost. Everything felt eery here. She let out a breath of relief when they came to the end.

"What is this?" she asked taking in the two chairs and the odd embrasure before her. Her mother put a finger to her lips and then pointed at the tiny opening.

Hermione stepped toward it with a frown. Chills broke out on her back as her mother stood behind her and bent to whisper in her ear.

"It's a peephole to the kings' bedroom."

Hermione stopped moving and turned back to look at her mum. She took in the almost maniacal gleam in her mothers' eyes and felt a horrible need to turn back, to run far far away.

"Mum, please." she whispered but her mother cut her a sharp glare.

"Look!" She hissed. Hermione grabbed a chair and dragged it toward peephole. She gracefully climbed onto it and with a shaking hand she opened and peered inside.

The room was illuminated in the soft glow of candles and the gentle pale moon. At first, her gaze was drawn to the beauty of the moon and the beauty of the gentle wind softly wafting the long sheer window and bed curtains. It looked ethereal and dreamlike. Then her gaze was drawn to the movement on the bed and she finally saw what her mother had dragged her to see.

She recoiled and nearly fell off the chair. Her mother released a deranged sort of laugh as Hermione gazed at her in horror.

"She's wearing my ring, Hermione. She's fucking my husband on my bed while wearing my ring!"

Tears spilled down her mother's pale cheeks as she stared at the wall and Hermione felt matching tears spill from her eyes.

"They killed me, Hermione. For this. So they could be together. You have to believe me, Darling. They killed me."

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The sound of cutlery scraping plates filled the glamorous dining hall. Hermione's eyes remained focused on her meal instead of the other occupants eating with her. Despite not meeting their eyes, she could feel their heavy stares, their side-long glances; always questioning, always judgmental…She remained unfazed, defiance in every bite she took.

"Hermione," Her father voice, deep and controlling, demanded she meet his eyes but years of carefully executed rebellious behavior made Hermione an expert at acknowledging without having to actually acknowledge; she used such tactics for him to indicate he should continue, "It has been decided that you shall arrive at Hogwarts earlier than the other first years so that we may have a private farewell in the headmaster's office."

Slowly chewing the remaining food in her mouth, Hermione immediately felt a flash of hot anger that her family would deny her the right to board the Hogwarts Express like the rest of the first years. Although she knew that it would be improbable for her family to drop her off at platform 9 3/4 like a normal family, she had hoped that they would just decide it best she go with her bodyguards, both magical and muggle.

"I think that foregoing the Hogwarts Express would put unnecessary attention on me, don't you? A first-year muggleborn student would never get away with not arriving in anything but a normal fashion."

"I disagree," Hermione's mouth thinned at the sound of her voice jumping in. Raising her eyes to gaze unflinchingly at her stepmother Hermione kept her expression neutral despite her inner rage. "I think as a…muggleborn, it would be hard for you to go the wizarding way. Isn't it only natural that a professor or someone from the wizarding community would show you to the school independently?"

Biting the inside of her cheek, Hermione refrained from her initial desire to spit fire at her stepmother who had no right to express an opinion on the matter. Her stepmother had little knowledge of the hidden magical community and had only been privy to Hermione's situation after she had wedded her father. Smiling condescendingly, Hermione responded in a slow, definitely mocking manner. "Well, actually, the wizarding world is much like ours— stepped in tradition and the holy grail of their traditions in wizarding Britain is to attend Hogwarts and all first years are expected to—as the tradition would have it—arrive at the school via the Hogwarts express, so…"

"You can't just expect that we won't see you off, Hermione." Her father broke in, causing Hermione to drop her smile and avert her eyes back to her plate as she primly cut her meat.

"I don't see why not. We can just say goodbye here and then Fab and Gid can take me to Hogwarts-"

"Absolutely not! Your grandmother and I want to evaluate the school grounds and ensure your safety."

"You two already have all the information about the school including a map made by the headmaster himself so excuse me if I think it's a bit overzealous if that isn't enough for you. It's completely unnecessary for you two to come."

"If looking at a map was sufficient enough then we wouldn't have built boats to travel afar, now would we?" her father hissed with restrained irritation that pushed all of Hermione's buttons, "Besides, we're not just skipping out of the express for fun. It's a precautionary action so that Grindlewald won't get to you. He knows that you will be attending Hogwarts this year and it's very plausible that he will have a plan in place to…take you again."

Feeling her mouth go dry, Hermione placed her cutlery down, a frown marring her lips. Her father had her there. "Have you discussed this already with the headmistress?"

"Your grandmother has kept in close contact with the Prime Minister Dumbledore, as you know, and I spoke with her earlier to inform have him inform the Headmistress. As of yet, we haven't gotten a response but I expect we will get the okay soon."

Hermione refrained just barely from rolling her eyes. Her father only speaking to her grandmother today meant that he only just decided to act all concerned about it. Typical of him to cause a fuss for something that only just caught his attention. She knew, as per his typical behavior, that the tiff would last for only a day at most if it was something he couldn't immediately get his way with. "Well, if it's already been decided…"

An hour later, a response came with an owl from the headmaster himself, welcoming them to the castle via the floo network. Hermione grit her teeth and held her ire until she could implode on an unsuspecting Fab and Gid in the privacy of her room.

XxXx

The day for her adventure at Hogwarts came but she felt it tainted with the elimination of the Hogwarts Express experience.

However, when she finally stepped out of the fireplace to arrive in the Headmaster Office, Hermione felt a shocking burst of, well…magic, flow through her entire being. Feeling alight at the splendor of the office with the moving portraits and intricate magical devices, she could only gape in wonder and excitement as the rest of the royal family followed.

"It's spectacular, isn't it?" Turning her eyes to a pleasantly smiling woman with a thick Scottish accent, Hermione smiled and nodded with a wonderment rarely shown in the eleven-year-old. She hadn't felt this way in, well…possibly ever. "I'm Headmistress McGonagall. It's a pleasure to meet you, Hermione."

Surprisingly, just from this one sentence, Hermione realized, for the first time, just how insignificant her royal blood status was in the wizarding world. No one whom she just met, would ever speak to her so informally to her without her title or even a curtsy. It made her feel warring emotions for a split second. Better get used to it, she thought as she smiled at her Headmaster just as her grandmother elegantly whirled into existence behind her in a loud ignition of green flame.

Hermione felt even greater respect for her grandmother at her ability to barely bat an eye at such a disorienting means of transportation. Stepping out of the fireplace, the Queen smiled a ready smile as her eyes zeroed in onto Headmistress McGonagall.

"Welcome, your Majesty." the Headmistress greeted, offering her hand to shake.

"Thank you, Headmistress, for allowing us to come," the Queen said as her father woodshed into existence with much less grace.

"It is no trouble at all. Under the circumstances, it is the least I could do." The Headmistress responded as Hermione helped steady her wobbling father. Hermione noticed her grandmother quickly glancing around the room, taking in the splendor with quick regard; a rather impressive feat in Hermione's opinion since the sleeping portraits alone were enough to ogle at for hours on end.

More pleasantries were exchanged as her stepmother came through the floo and her father introduced them.

"Shall we explore the castle grounds?" Headmistress McGonagall asked before giving them a quick guided tour.

During the tour, Hermione felt a mix of disbelief and numbness from the overwhelming splendor. Sure, she had lived in castles all her life and was no novice in grandeur but this was different. Suits of armor that moved, staircases that changed direction, portraits that spoke…it was all so magical and incredible. She felt such fortune just to even trapeze around such a place. It felt almost impossible that she would actually call such a place home for seven whole years. Her father and stepmother seemed most especially stupefied by the place although the Queen maintained an academic approach to the whole thing; not really wasting time basking in such magnificence but rather asking query after query meticulously. A brief flash of potent sadness consumed Hermione as she thought of her mother and how she should be strutting beside her.

Suppressing her anguish, Hermione did not allow her mother to haunt her mind as she had back at Windsor Castle.

"I feel satisfied that Hermione will be safe here," The Queen remarked as they readied themselves for departure.

"Yes, Grindelwald will not be able to infiltrate these grounds. They've been fortified longer than your Oxford has been around for." The Queen gave a perfunctory laugh as she gave Hermione an unreadable glance.

"Well, Hermione, you are in good hands. I leave here feeling informed and excited for you." Hermione smiled at the elder woman before reaching out to give her a hug. "However, you must always be vigilant."

"I know," Hermione responded giving her a squeeze before releasing her and turning to her father. "I'll miss you all." She lied as she hugged him in turn.

"Doubtful," he rebuked, wrapping his arms and giving her a tight squeeze, "However, we will definitely miss you."

Smiling with masked anticipation, she watched as they each departed, only sparing her stepmother a tiny wave.

Once they were gone, Hermione focused on the Headmistress who watched the interaction with a polite smile on her face. Hermione suspected that the unreadable look in her eyes masked feelings much less nonpartisan.

"Well, we have just enough time to get down to where the Hogwarts Express will unload, shall we?"

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Headmistress McGonagall took Hermione down to the unloading area before quickly leaving just as the train arrived. For minutes that stretched to hours in her nervousness, Hermione waited for the rest of her peers to gather around. She quickly realized that just from not having boarded the train, she already missed out on finding a group as all the students seemed to have a partner or group to walk with.

Falling into step with a cluster of smaller kids, Hermione hoped were first years, she eyed her surroundings and listened to the conversation.

"I have all of the Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff cards but I really wanted one of Dumbledore." A boy with sandy colored hair said.

"Well, Dumbledore just became Minister so I imagine that it will take a bit before you can collect his card." another boy responded, his jet black wavy hair blowing wildly all over his face as he spoke.

Recognizing the names, Hermione's interest was peaked as she followed them over to the enchanted boats.

"Dumbledore is hardly great anyway," the wavy-haired boy continued, as he climbed into a boat, "He would have been great if he didn't care so much about mudblood rights."

A jolt shot through Hermione at the word mudblood. She felt something so foreboding in the word though she wasn't quite sure if it meant just what she thought. She continued to follow them as the sandy-haired boy climbed in and sat down next to his friend.

Carefully, without disturbing the two other boys to her presence, Hermione followed in after them, hoping to gather more insight.

"That is true. But he is the strongest wizard alive." The wavy-haired boy scoffed as he turned to glare at his sandy-haired friend.

"You can't be serious. Dumbledore lost to Grindelwald in a duel years ago and since then he's been scrambling to keep a hold on England. My father doubts he'll last more than a year against the pressure." Pettigrew looked like he himself was scrambling to backtrack as he nodded vigorously.

"Of course you're right."

"I wish Dumbledore would just give up already. Then we could go back to the rightful order of things, you know? No mudbloods, no restraints, we could finally rule over the muggles like we should have been doing since the dark ages."

Remaining silent, Hermione sat erectly from her position behind the two boys as the boat started to move across the lake, giving them a splendid view of the castle illuminated at night, the full moon hanging high above the peaks of the tallest towers.

A lull in the conversation between the two boys made Hermione realize that they were, in fact, quite unused to each other. She noticed immediately the hierarchy between them with the wavy-haired boy having all the power over Pettigrew.

"The Daily Prophet said that Dumbledore has a set of secret aurors working to ruin Grindelwald from the inside," Pettigrew said, making the boy next to him, sniff indignantly.

"I know," the boy said, turning his eyes to glare disgustedly at Pettigrew, "But you don't actually believe that tosh do you? It's actually more like the opposite. I bet you Grindlewald has spies everywhere, even Hogwarts."

Fear shot through Hermione at those words before quickly getting replaced by anger at just the thought of there being other spies like Ernst in the castle. Fab and Gid had not not come with her but were at Hogwarts patrolling. The deal was that they would start to shadow her again tomorrow for about a week before they would then patrol in shifts. If there were any spies in Hogwarts she would be protected.

"Yeah, and McGonagall isn't nearly as good as Dumbledore so…"Pettigrew trailed off as they landed on the other side.

Not wasting another second, Hermione exited the boat before the other two boys and was one of the first to cluster around the door leading back into the castle were the deputy Headmaster stood. Hermione eyed the deputy, taking in his dark cloak, big nose, dark eyes and hair. He did not smile or greet anyone but stood aloofly at the entrance with an unreadable gaze.

Hermione refrained from gazing around as more and more students piled in around her, talking in loud awed voices.

She felt overwhelmed again but this time for different reasons. Talk of Grindlewald disgruntled her. For some reason, she had not thought that he would be a topic in children's conversation. She felt jaded that he was…bitter, angry. How dare he permeate not only her Hogwarts Express trip but now even her journey across the lake. She even cursed the two boys from discussing him in the first place.

They killed me. They killed me. Her mother's voice vibrated in her mind. But it hadn't been her father and stepmother. It had been him. She knew that, remembered it… that horrible green light and Avada Kedava!

Shutting her eyes and breathing sharply, Hermione released those memories just as the man began to speak.

"My name is Professor Snape. We will enter the Great Hall once you all queue up. You will enter the hall quietly in a single file line. Any funny business will result in the immediate loss of points once you have been sorted into your appropriate house. Now, line up!"

Hermione raised her brows, feelings surprised at such an unwelcoming little speech. Not even a welcome to Hogwarts. She wondered just what subject this professor taught so she knew to be on her best behavior. She could tell already that to be on his bad side would be hell.

Raising her chin, Hermione put on her best well behaved princess persona as the rest queued in behind her. She remained tight-lipped as Professor Snape regarded them cooly. Some other students didn't seem to get the picture and chatted incessantly. Hermione could not resist her ire and turned her head to harshly shush the culprits.

She was about to face the front again when she was distracted by a figure in her peripherals. Angling slightly, her eyes met the cool dark blue, almost violet eyes of the boy who stood behind her.

Heart spiking, Hermione quickly turned to the front, trying to remain composed although the unique color of his eyes only alluded to the quick hint of a perfectly sculpted face. She almost felt tempted to turn around to make sure that the quick glance at the seemingly beautiful boy behind her was actually that beautiful looking. Meeting the eyes of the Professor before her quickly quelled that desire, however. It seemed that only she had held up the line for a quick second for not facing the man.

Satisfied that everyone was quietly facing him, Professor Snape finally turned sharply on his heel and entered the Castle, leading them to the Great Hall.

"Quiet!" Professor Snape hissed as whispers broke out among them. Hermione this time did not hush anyone but kept her gaze trained on the professor; without having to look, she felt as if the boy behind her was doing the same.

Once everyone quieted once more the Professor spoke.

"You all are about to go into the Great Hall to be sorted and as some of you might know, there are four houses of Hogwarts. You will be sorted in alphabetical order into said houses based on what the sorting hat believes is the best house for you. There are banners to inform you as to which house corresponds with which table in the great hall. Once we take the sorting hat off of you, you make walk to your indicated house. Once all of you have been sorted into your houses, we will then eat dinner. When dinner is done a prefect will show you to your new dormitory. There should be no questions as this is all self-explanatory. I will enter first and you all will quietly follow behind me."

Without further ado, Professor Snape turned and entered the hall without pause. Hermione quickly followed, her heart in her throat as she barely took in the great hall. Her mind wheeled as she recalled all the facts she knew about the houses from what she had read.

Despite knowing the procedure for months now, the reality was far different from reading about it in a book and she wondered about the effects it would have on her life should she be sorted into an incompatible house. Anxiety shot through her as they marched inside the hall and she got a view of the sorting hat placed on a stool. While she had already faced quite a lot of intimidating situations in her short life so far, nothing quite surmounted the momentary blind panic she felt gazing upon the hat and knowing the power it held. Wherever it saw fit to put her would mark her entire Hogwarts career…a whole seven precious years of her life. It had to be perfect; needed to be perfect.

Her heart skipped a beat when the lips of the hat opened and it bellowed out a song. As it sang, Hermione focused on the words instead of her panic, digesting every word with a ferocious hunger. She understood from the hat things she already knew such as Gryffindor was home to the brave, Ravenclaw the smart, Hufflepuff the loyal and Slytherin the ambitious. One line in the song stood out the most to Hermione; 'there's nothing hidden in your head the sorting hat can't see.' She wondered about the legality of such an act. Surely, it shouldn't be allowed for the hat to be able to see everything in your head? What if someone stole the hat to use for nefarious means? Did that mean they used the hats on students disciplinary wise like say, if they cheated during a test or broke curfew? Actually, that would be quite brilliant but regardless Hermione did not want the hat on her head. She did not want it to see…did not want it to know.

"Winston Avery!" Professor Snape called, jolting Hermione from her thoughts. She watched as the wavy-haired boy from the boat walked stiffly to the front, lips pulled tightly in restrained nervousness.

The boy sat upon the stood and Professor Snape placed the hat onto his head. With rapt attention, she watched as the hat hummed and oohed before finally bellowing out Slytherin. With a blank face, the boy slid off the stool as Professor Snape snatched the hat off his head just before he quickly made his way to the green and silver table where the Slytherins were politely clapping. 'Not a warm bunch,' she couldn't help but think as she observed Marcus sitting down at the table. No one outwardly smiled or cheered but one elder boy that looked to be a sixth year gave him a proud nod as he passed.

More and more names were called and Hermione watched the reception each new student got with a keen eye. It seemed the Hufflepuff house was the most welcoming out of all the houses.

With each passing name, Hermione felt more and more nervous, knowing her turn was coming up.

It had been decided before she came that she would carry her mother's maiden name at Hogwarts. There was worry that someone, perhaps her fellow muggleborns, would recognize her since she had been in the public eye since infancy. She was told to just deny, deny, deny, until blue in the face. She even underwent subtle changes to her appearance that left her with frizzier hair and an overall more humble look.

She fussed with said hair until, finally, it happened.

"Hermione Granger!"

Her stomach plummeted at hearing her name. She took a step that felt like trudging through water, and then another. Professor Snape stood like a tall black ominous crow as he watched her slow progress with cold black eyes. She had to look away from him, and her eyes fell onto the hat dangling from his pale spidery fingers.

The closer she got the more she could see just how tattered and beat up the hat seemed. She knew it had once been Godric Gryffindors thus making it quite the antique, however, she also thought it would have a spell on it to keep it in better shape. Yet, it was a relief to not have it so pristine. She felt less scared as she approached it.

Carefully sitting on the stool, she stared out at the sea of people with an unfocused gaze as the hat slowly lowered onto her head.

"Ah!" the hat spoke out loud and in her mind with a sort of pleased surprise, that made Hermione's heart leap. 'Welcome, your royal highness!'

Blinking rapidly, Hermione felt a little out of element as she wondered whether to speak out loud or not.

'Not to worry, not to worry. Your mind is fine. I can see and hear it all perfectly. You really are quite a fascinating first year, I must say! And I'm not just saying that because you are the first ever muggleborn royal I've encountered.'

The compliment pleased her as much as it confused.

'Any of the founding fathers would be champing at the bit to have a girl like you in their house. Your intellect is something to behold yet you have such a fearsome bravery and unbound loyalty to those you've put your trust in.'

Her mind immediately thought of the twins and her nervous heart thawed a little.

'Yet…there is something here…something more that comes from that dark place you were in. It is something I can't ignore. You are fueled by this more than anything else. You'd give up your bravery, your brains, and even your friends to obtain it…"

Her breath caught in her throat at the hat's words. She had known ever since she had left that god-forsaken dungeon that she would never be the same after that. Her mother's death only solidified it. It had become the core of her.

'Yes, there is really only one place I can put you that would be the most beneficial, however, it will come at a great price. I hope your vengeance is worth it, Hermione.'

Hermione shut her eyes, taking just a second to think about it, allowing herself just this one hesitation. She quickly thought about Fab and Gid, and their nephew entering Hogwarts with her this year and the bright future they had pictured for her. She'd make friends with the nephew, come around the burrow and be invited to every family gathering; be a part of a bright and happy group. 'Gryffindor is the best!' They'd always said like it was a given she belonged there and that she would love it.

'But you wouldn't love it,' The hat supplied, knowing that which she couldn't quite put into words, 'You think of that dark place and your mothers ghost and you feel as if that happy place is only a happy delusion and being the smart pragmatic girl you are, you know delusions can't last forever.' She nodded, the movement causing the hat to cover her eyes just as it cried "Slytherin!"

'You are braver than you think.' The hat whispered just before Professor Snape snatched it off her head.

She blinked as she gazed up at Professor Snape, silhouetted by the lights of the hall. His gaze bore into hers with an indecipherable expression that, to her whirling mind, seemed too intense to be normal.

She moved without conscious thought as she felt all the stares boring into her. She knew that she had yet to even fathom just what being a muggleborn in Slytherin meant. This could quite possibly be the worst case scenario for her but…Surely, it can't be too bad or the hat wouldn't have put me here, she thought as she made her way to the green and silver table where some were politely clapping. Years of perfected etiquette kept Hermione's gait even and spine straight as she walked without really seeing. She took a seat next to a fellow first-year girl sorted into Slytherin named Millicent Bulstrode. The girl surveyed her with passive bluish grey eyes. They both turned away from each other at the same time as they continued to watch the rest of the sorting.

"Daphne Greengrass!" Hermione watched as a pretty blonde girl stepped over to the stool and only a few seconds later it too cried Slytherin. The girl stepped down with an air that Hermione was finding a common trait in Slytherins—confidence. The girl chose to sit across from her and the two eyed each other for a second before dismissing one another.

This is a very cold house, she couldn't help but think yet it wasn't something she was unused to. Terrance Higgs got sorted into Slytherin and took a seat next to her, followed by Alexandria Rowle and a few others. Her mind started to drift as well as her eyes over to the staff table and she took in the numerous faces and nearly balked when she found a familiar one.

"Remus," she breathed in disbelief.

He looked just how she remembered him, kind eyes and a comforting smile. She wished he would turn his eyes to her but his gaze remained fixed on the sorting.

In fact, he seemed to straighten up in his seat as he gazed at someone specifically. She followed his line of sight to a boy with messy black hair and glasses who stood in front of who must have been Ronald Weasley. She frowned as she wondered whether Remus knew the boy somehow.

"Pansy Parkinson,"

"Slytherin!"

"Harry Potter," Remus suddenly beamed at the black haired boy who smiled back as he made his way to the stool. "Gryffindor!"

He must have definitely known the boy since he wore an expression of such pride as Harry took a seat at the Gryffindor table. She watched as the boy even gave Remus a thumbs up. A harsh spike of jealousy welled in her for she remembered how much she had loved Remus yet she had not even known he now worked as a professor in Hogwarts. But this Harry Potter must have known and now had Remus's love while she…she had been Remus's job and once that was over she now meant nothing.

Hermione looked away just as a Theodore Nott was sorted into Slytherin. It would be unreasonable of her to get emotional about such a thing. She had Fab and Gid now anyway.

Seeing him…it felt like opening a floodgate. She remembered that time when he was her bodyguard; before Ernst when her mother was alive and Hermione's only problem was that her parents didn't seem to get along. She remembered being able to so easily cry in Remus's arms and feel genuine happiness when he stroked her hair and told her to dry her tears. When he gave her attention that she craved, her problems would go away just like that and he had become a parental figure to her. It had been different with Remus than any of her other bodyguards.

Silly to brood on it though, Hermione reminded herself, Since Remus is kind I'm sure we'll be able to reconnect again as student and Professor.

Focusing again onto the sorting Hermione realized that it was almost over, just six more first years waited to get placed.

"Tom Riddle!"

Curiously, she watched as that beautiful boy that had stood behind her in the queue finally sat on the stool.

The glimpse she had caught of him earlier had really only been a prelude to the boy's good looks. He had a perfectly symmetrical face with angelic features that remained perfectly blank as the hat was placed on his silky raven hair. The hat stayed on his head for possibly five seconds before it bellowed out Slytherin.

Before Professor Snape could take off the hat for him, Tom had already taken it off himself and handed it back to the teacher before fixing his eyes onto the Slytherin table and made a beeline for it. His eyes were sharp as he gazed at all the faces gaping back at him, next to her Millicent made a strange sort of strangled sound and Hermione peaked a glance at the other girls to find them admiring their newcomer as well.

Said newcomer did not seem fazed at all by the gazes as he marched to sit next to Draco Malfoy.

Losing interest, Hermione turned back to the sorting just in time to see whom she had rightfully suspected was Ronald Weasley sorted into Gryffindor. She felt sure that Fab and Gid would be happy about the news come tomorrow. She only hoped that that one bit of good news helped them deal with her being in Slytherin.

The last boy sorted was a good looking boy named Blaise Zabini who smirked handsomely when the hat placed him into Slytherin. With the sorting officially done, Headmistress McGonagall stood and began her speech.

"Welcome students to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am Headmistress McGonagall. Before we may eat, I must go over some announcements." Hermione stood up straighter, at full attention, "Anyone who ventures into the Forbidden Forest without adult supervision will risk facing expulsion. The forest is home to many creatures that have a magical contract with Hogwarts and students venturing into the Forest without permission, breaches that contract. It's a very serious matter. The Dueling and Choir clubs have been reinstated and tryout for both will begin in a weeks time along with Quidditch. The International Sorcerer's Exchange Program has unfortunately been canceled this year. Anyone who wishes to lobby a complaint may sign the petition that can be found in the Head Girl and Boy's office. And speaking of head's, let's give a hand to our new Head Girl, Veronica Meeks and Head Boy, Thorvald Rowle." Applause immediately followed as a pretty girl from Ravenclaw and a good looking guy from Slytherin stood up. After a moments pause, Headmistress McGonagall announced that dinner could commence. Immediately food appeared upon the plates yet it was not a grandiose feast like the sort at Buckingham Palace. The choices were overall very commoners food; the sort that was greasy, and overly grain based. Of course, she was used to this sort of everyday food but for some reason, for an event as big as this, she had expected a more intricate meal choice.

She eyed the fried chicken and the meatloaf and primly before deciding on a salad to start.

She reached for the salad tongs just as a girl named Tracey Davis did and suddenly it felt like all eyes were on the two to see which one would concede the tongs first. Her eyes snapped to Tracy's and they stared for a prolonged moment at each other before Tracey retracted without a word. Feeling awkward, Hermione smiled at the girl. "Thank you," she said casually as she piled some salad onto her plate and then purposefully held up the end for Tracey, "here."

Tracey took it with a small smile and Hermione sat back and tucked into her food, feeling as if she handled her first test well.

Conversation started sprouting around the table amongst the older years while first years like Hermione seemed to be shifty-eyed and uncomfortable. She peeked through her hair at the others to find a lot of carefully blank faces.

Hermione chewed slowly but felt at a loss on what to do to start a conversation. Her grandmother would be appalled since she had always told Hermione that having basic conversational skills were a must for the royal family. Yet, her mind remained perfectly blank for a reason Hermione couldn't understand. Was she actually…intimidated by these eleven-year-olds? It seemed so silly to her to feel such a way especially since she was so different from them; but however way she looked at it, Hermione was actually too frightened to speak. She supposed it had to do with usage of that hateful word when Theodore Higgs and Winston Avery were talking earlier on the boat. Grindelwald had called her that name too. Mudblood Princess...Ruler of animals, he had said.

Seeking distraction, her eyes fell upon Remus again to find him staring right back at her. A surprised smile graced her lips that he returned with one of his own plus a wave. She waved back, sufficiently distracted for a moment. She wished she could just go right up to the staff table to eat and talk with him. She had so much she wanted to say.

"Do you know Lupin?" Terrence asked her, much to her chagrin. She didn't want to engage in conversation with someone she already knew to be a bigot. Giving him a sidelong glance, she was reminded of one of her cousins on her father's side. Said cousin had once threw out all of Hermione's work she had done for the tutor and often made fun of her teeth before her mother had gotten them fixed.

"Do you?" she asked in return, wondering how even this boy new Remus.

"I don't know him personally, of course, but his family is well known since they're, you know, that." Hermione hoped her confusion didn't show on her face.

"My family wouldn't be caught dead affiliating with the Lupins. Such a dirty bloodline." Millicent Bulstrode snottily piped in.

"It was such a scandal when Black ran off with him," Draco Malfoy said shaking his head.

"I heard that in their family every other generation has a werewolf offspring. Isn't that just ghastly?" Pansy Parkinson said with a dramatic shiver.

"Well that just can't be true," Hermione cut in, "Being a werewolf isn't hereditary, its an infection."

"Not if he is a descendant of the first immortal," Her eyes sharply cut to the beautiful boy with the violet eyes. Tom Riddle gazed back at her and Hermione felt her spine straighten. Something about him seemed very mature and cordial. She could easily have mistaken him for an aristocrat.

She also felt relieved that she read enough to know what he was talking about. The legend of the first immortal was about a man who supposedly survived a plague that mutated his genes to live forever; his wife gave birth to three sons who inherited this immortal gene, however, one son was bitten by a bat, the other a wolf, and the last came to contact with a magical elf. Thus the first vampire, werewolf and wizard were made. It had seemed very farfetched to Hermione when she had read it.

"The legend of The First is just that, a legend. There's no proof that they even existed. Even less that Re-Professor Lupin, would be his descendant."

"How can you say that? His father is clearly a werewolf, isn't he?" Winston Avery grumbled. "It's really no wonder why Lupin became a bender. There's no way I'd want a werewolf for a child." Hermione felt shocked at the casual display of cruelty her fellow first-year Slytherin's showed as they nodded their heads in agreement.

"Sure, that explains Lupin but for a Black to run off with him…hey, isn't he your uncle, Malfoy?" Terrence Higgs asked with a vicious sneer on his lips. Draco sneered right back at the boy, as his fists tightened by his side.

"Actually, he was blasted off the family tree so no, Higgs. There's only Uncle Regulus."

"My younger sister, Astoria, is actually good friends with your cousin, Draco." Daphne said, giving Draco a cool glance as she cut into her meatloaf.

"Which one? Lyra or Alphard?"

"Alphard, actually. Next year they'll be at Hogwarts together."

"Kind of like us, eh Pans?" Higgs said to Pansy who rolled her eyes. "Oi, that's not a nice way to treat your cousin!"

"I like your brother more," she replied dully.

"Though, nothing's worse than poor, Winston," Higgs said with a laugh that quickly quelled at Winston's glare. Draco and Pansy got nearly identical biting smirks on their faces as the looked at the wavy-haired boy.

"Nothing's worse than being related to a Weasley," Draco said with malicious amusement.

"Oh, leave off, every pureblood is related to each other some way."

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable at the turn of conversation, Hermione peeked a glance at the some of the others closest to her who had not contributed anything to the talk of bloodlines. Tracy seemed the most uncomfortable as she moved food around her plate. Beside her, Millicent was the exact opposite as she scarfed down food, which could account for her lack of voice. Her eyes then shifted to Tom to find him with an unreadable expression as he followed the discussion. She wondered if they kept quiet because they too were muggleborn.

"Oh no, here they come," she heard an older year girl say just before ghostly apparitions popped out from the walls.

Heart leaping in her throat, Hermione watched as this ghost flew around the hall, and for one terrifying moment expected to see her own mother gliding toward her. Instead, one ghost in particular, came soaring to the Slytherin table— a ghost covered in blood and waving a sword as he cackled. People gasped, oohed and ahhed but Hermione found no joy or excitement in their presence.

"Hello, little first years!" a rather round ghost jeered, his arm around the shoulders of another ghost covered in blood who wore an expression of petulant irritation. "I am the Hufflepuff's House ghost, the Fat Friar and this here is your house ghost, the Bloody Baron." Said Bloody Baron growled with rage as he shook off the Fat Friar's arm and gave him a murderous glare. The Fat Friar held up his hands in a sign of peace, looking quite fearful, "Right, I'll just be off then, eh, Baron? I'll see you lot again, I'm sure. Don't be afraid to say hello and have a chat when you see me in the halls!"

"Begone at once!" The Baron hissed drawing his sword on the Friar, who quickly soared away with a squeak. The Baron stayed like that for a few seconds before his eyes fell onto the bloody sword in hand causing the snarl on his face to morph into a look of profound sorrow. Without another word, he drifted away, the sword in his hand morphing into chains that weighed him down.

Hermione stared after him, feeling quite curious as to what she just witnessed

"The Bloody Baron," she mused aloud, her mind trying to come up with anything she knew about him to find nothing, "I don't recall reading anything about him."

"Nobody knows much about him," Terrence responded, and although she was the one asking, she felt annoyed that he had to be the one who answered. "Not even whose blood he's covered in."

Frowning, Hermione took some food and listened to the mundane chatter between the others as she ate.

"I know why they canceled the International Sorcerer's Exchange Program since my father is on the school board," Malfoy said, a smirk on his lips and nose upturned. Hermione caught Daphne rolling her eyes and couldn't help but smirk herself.

"Oh, tell us, Draco." Pansy gushed.

"It's because of Grindelwald. They say that he's even recruited students in Durmstang to his cause so they shut it down."

"They should have kept it open," Theodore Nott said, for the first time raising his head. Skinny with dark circles under green eyes, Nott appeared unhealthy with the only exception being his rather lively curly hair. "I'm surprised your father didn't do something about it, Malfoy."

Draco huffed and even rolled his eyes. "Of course my father wanted to keep it open but Dumbledore is still on the board."

"Yeah, and what's your father's excuse, Nott? Oh right, he lost his seat on the board and on the Wizengot and his job," Pansy snarked out viciously, making the others laugh. Nott immediately averted his eyes back to his plate and Hermione was filled with dread to realize just what sort of house she got sorted into.

As dinner continued Hermione got a feel for the hierarchy already forming amongst her fellow Slytherin. Malfoy, who seemed to have the purest blood and the most influential family, seemed to be have become the designated leader. This solidified when Draco ordered one boy named Gregory Goyle to fix him a second plate of food and the other larger boy did it without question. After that, Winston immediately began carting Draco's favor, and all topic of conversation centered around Draco and especially his new broom.

Decidedly uninterested in talk of brooms and Quidditch, Hermione zoned out into thoughts of tomorrow. She began fretting on all that she would have to review before morning while trying to suppress the mounting fear of her fellow Slytherin's finding out about her heritage.

More and more troubles began piling up in her mind; silly things like if she went to class and suddenly found she could not do any spells and wasn't magical at all. Would she be killed? She'd definitely be expelled, an equally abhorrent prospect. Or what if she went to class and her magic proved to be really weak and inferior? That would be the absolute worst case scenario—to be magical but only just. No one would respect her, her own house members especially.

She missed dessert with all her worrying but she did not miss when Millicent suddenly dropped her fork. Turning her eyes to the girl, she felt alarmed to see the Millicent looking pained before she hunched over, on hand holding her forehead while the other curled around her stomach.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, reaching out a hand to place on the girl's shoulder.

Immediately, Millicent jerked her shoulder out from under Hermione's hand and smacked it away. "I'm fine," she hissed without raising her head "Leave me alone."

Hermione frowned and gazed around to see if anyone else had noticed. Her eyes met Daphne who quickly looked away as if to say 'I'm not getting involved.' Her eyes then met Tracy's who shared a bemused look with her. At the moment the dessert's all vanished and Headmistress McGonagall stood again. Millicent seemed to snap out of it enough to pay attention so Hermione let it rest.

"Everyone, your attention! The welcome feast is over. Prefects please gather up your respective first years and direct them to their common rooms. I'd like to remind you all that curfew is in full effect and anyone caught out of their common rooms will have house points taken off!"

Everyone began standing and a flurry of activity followed as the hall broke out in excited chatter.

"First years, over here! Line up!" Swiveling her head, Hermione couldn't find the owner of the voice in the sea of students.

"Follow me, firsties," a voice ordered from a much closer range. Hermione turned to find a rather plain girl with brown hair pulled in a tight low bun waving the first years over. Terrence moved in front of her toward the girl with Millicent on her heels and together they followed the girl toward a corner in the hall where other first years were being arranged into two lines; boys on the left and girls on the right. "Here's the rest of them." The girl said to her fellow prefect. "Now, I'm off, I got a bone to pick with Rosier."

The other prefect, another brunette girl significantly shorter in stature, gave a harrowed look but waved her away nonetheless. "Just be back before curfew, if you lose points on the first day, Thornvald will kill you."

"I know, I"m not an idiot, Emma." Without further ado, the girl walked off making Emma huff.

"Well queue up you lot." Emma ordered with a wave. Hermione immediately fellow into the queue behind Millicent all the way at the back of the line.

Emma walked to the front and conversed with a tall glasses wearing boy before they both turned and began counting them. Hermione noticed that there were more males than females which surprised her; usually, it was the other way around. With the counting done, the prefects lead them out of the congested hall and through the corridors until they came to the entrance hall. There they crossed to the other side, moving passed paintings that waved at them as they went to a staircase leading down much like an oubliette.

Chills broke out on Hermione skin as it got significantly colder the further down they travel. Suddenly the prefects stopped in a seemingly empty corridor and turned to face them.

"Can everybody hear me," the male prefect asked, straining to look everyone in the back, as they nodded. "Excellent. Well, this is it. This is the entrance to the Slytherin common room behind this wall," he rapped his knuckles on said wall, "Quite easy to miss so be sure to memorize where you are. Don't be that idiot first year who has to sleep on in the corridor for a week before they get it. We'll hex you if we catch you doing that." The prefect warned with a malicious grin.

Hermione turned to eye her surrounding, quickly taking in the suit of armor standing vigil and the nearest portrait which so happened to have its subject currently vacated from its frame.

"You must say the password in order to gain entrance to the common room. It does change at random intervals so always make sure you remain organized otherwise you'll set up a booby trap that will make the walls start closing in on you." Hermione and several other first years gasped in horror.

Rolling her eyes Emma cut in. "He's lying, that is not true." She reassured making the other prefect laugh. Hermione did not find his joke funny in the least.

"I am lying but it is true that the Bloody Baron will come out and slash at you if you get it wrong too many times. Anyway, the password is Merlin, an easy one just for you firsties."

As he said it, the wall slid away revealing a dimly lit passageway. They stepped through into the common room. The first thing Hermione noticed was the chainlink lamps and chandelier, the second, the great hulking snake protruding from the wall above the fireplace. She then took in the high arched windows showing pitch blackness and the furniture which did not look all too comfortable with its Danish angularity. She critically assessed the carved mantlepiece and touches of antique sophistication and found them authentic and familiarly regal. The floor was a dark mahogany wood stenciled with snakes, polished to be impeccably shiny, not the best choice in such a cold environment. Overall, she found that she could get used to the common room rather quickly.

"We're under water." Hermione looked at Tom who turned his head from the window to the male prefect. Said prefect nodded as he waved his wand at the fireplace that roared to life.

"Correct. The Slytherin common room is actually surrounded by the black lake. We see the Giant Squid and grindlylows all the time and occasionally some merfolk."

"The girl dormitories are that way," Emma stated pointing to a staircase on the left side of the room, "And the boys are over there." She pointed to the left and raised an eyebrow. "Usually boys cannot enter the girls dorms but its only a manner of time before someone undoes the spell." Emma and the other prefect shared a look and a chuckle as Hermione's eyes widened comically at the implication. "Sort of a Slytherin tradition," she said before giving a shrug "Anyway that's not important—"

"At least not yet for you guys," the other prefect interrupted wiggling his eyebrows at the boys; Emma swatted him.

"Shut up Clayton! Anyway, as I was saying, curfew is strictly at ten o clock. If someone from another house catches you, they are not going to let you get away with it."

"Yeah, Slytherin isn't liked by the other houses so think of everyone who is not a Slytherin as your enemy until proven otherwise." Clayton added.

"Lucky for us, Professor Snape is our head of house and he just so happens to be the deputy. He looks after us."

"Most importantly, you have to remember this; what happens in Slytherin stays in Slytherin."